


The Broken Elevator

by bitchbehumble



Category: Eames - Fandom, Inception (2010), The Auction Floor (2012), Tom Hardy - Fandom
Genre: Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, One Shot, Smut Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchbehumble/pseuds/bitchbehumble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Eames meets Annabell and an unexpected situation occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Broken Elevator

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gracediamondsfear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracediamondsfear/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Auction Floor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/557103) by [gracediamondsfear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracediamondsfear/pseuds/gracediamondsfear). 



> Based on the Inception character, Eames.

"Good afternoon... number 176?" asked the elegant brunette behind the desk.

"Yes... and I'm also to meet with Evan, is that correct?" the gentleman spoke with a rich accent and deep raspy voice.

"Yes, he's expecting you. Just give me a few moments here and we'll take the elevator to his suite"

The gentleman quickly glancing over the lovely woman before turning to view the new construction. The scent of plaster and fresh paint through out the air. A coat of white dust over the plastic coverings and shoe prints along the newly laid carpet down the hall. 

The phone buzzes.

"Yes"

"Yes he is, he just arrived"

"Yes, will do Sir"

The gentleman already looking to the receptionist. "Sir, there will be a woman to greet you at the elevator there, and she will take you to Evan". The receptionist points to the elevator never making eye contact. 

Within a few short moments, there is a 'ding' and the elevator doors spread open. Before the gentleman, stood a stunningly beautiful young woman. Another brunette, except this one had hair in a nice and tidy up-do. Her eyes and lips dramatic. Her lips dark red as the jacket and skirt suit she wore. She couldn't be more than 24, as the receptionist seemed younger yet, he thought, looking her over. 

"Good afternoon Sir, Evan is waiting for you" her voice soft and sultry. He entered the elevator, jingling coins in his pocket and noticing she too, made no eye contact. Her arms crossed in front of her. She pushed a button to the top floor and the doors close. 

Silence between the two, except for the easy-listening elevator music. Walls of mirrors and cold marble flooring in the extravagant elevator. They couldn't of made but two floors when the elevator jolted and stopped, staggering both the gentleman and the young woman. Lights flicker and then went out, along with the music, now pitch black and deafening. Before the eyes would have adjusted to the darkness, the dim emergency lights came on. 

"I'm sorry Sir, it must be the construction" using reasoning of the issue. 

"Is this a habit?" responded the gentleman with some irritation in his voice. 

"No... This is the first" the woman stated, trying to uphold the reputation of Evan and the establishment. 

"Well... I have an appointment in 45 minutes" the gentleman scanning over his thick silver wrist watch, and even more agitated. 

"Yes, I know Sir. I'm sure everything will be back to running within a few minutes". The woman was annoyed with the situation but knew it was her duty to remain calm and reassure the guest that there was no worry. 

The woman stood in front of the control panel to the elevator, patiently waiting for something to happen. Ignoring the sighs of the gentleman growing weary behind her. After about 10 minutes of uncomfortable silence, realizing that there must be something than the less trivial for them being immobilized so long. The woman took in a deep breath and exhaled, letting her arms and hands drop and mounting a hand to her hip. She looks to the ceiling, releasing the expression of annoyance that had gotten the better of her. 

"You know darling... there are better ways to waste time and settle this aggravation" the gentleman suggested. 

The woman still looking to the tiny holes of the ceiling, cast her eyes downward to view the gentleman behind her through the mirror. He was looking to her, confident, arrogant and full of audacity. She had already broken the rules by revealing consternation and now, making eye contact, a major no-no. However indecent the suggestion may have been, he was quite handsome. Well dressed in a mint green button down and charcoal grey suit, slightly older, sand colored hair, parted and combed perfectly down the side, a little more than a 5 o'clock shadow, and the most obscene full set of lips she had ever seen on a man. 

She grinned with intrigue, fit for the challenge, she turned on her heels to face him and walked with confidence toward him. His face held no emotion, no grin, no raised eyebrow, just smugness. Now closer, she looked over his features, steadying his lips, wanting them but she wouldn't dare. She knew better, even if rules had been broken, the rules of seduction still applied. She took to his eyes, starring, searching deep into the grey pools. He starred back, forming a quirked grin. She thought-she was every bit of a match for him, he thought-it was amusing she thought, she would be of a challenge. As she starred into his eyes, he had read her through, easy, without any question. Something he was more than just good at, and all the ego and confidence along with it. 

She knelt down, holding her hands behind her back, continuing to stare in his eyes, alluring. She finagled the zipper from inside the fabric with her tongue and clinched the zipper between her teeth, pulling down along the seam. She slithered her tongue in between two folds, the trousers, then the silk boxers, flicking his cock free from within, engulfing the girth and length into her mouth. This caused the gentleman to hitch under his posing grin, his cock coming to a full widened extend. He leaned back against the mirrored wall and rested a hand on the rail for balance, as she worked him. With his other hand he pulled the shiny comb from her hair, releasing the fresh scent of her conditioner underneath his nostrils as it fell loose. He palmed some of the brown locks into his hand, pushing his pulsating cock deeper into her mouth. She took him in, sliding down her throat, his jaw tight and tensed, she was good, too good. Her tongue worked all around, covering, teasing his tiny hole with the tip of her tongue. 

He pulled from her, slid his fingers under her chin, forcing her to stand, she smiled licking her puffy lips. He spun her around to face the opposing mirrored wall, scanning her body, through the mirror from over her shoulder. He walked her to the middle of the elevator, her hands still knotted behind her back. He reached around unbuttoning her suit jacket, pulling it open, then unzipped the side of her skirt, just enough to untuck her blouse. He gripped the sleeves of her jacket and pulled it off her, his lips to her ear. 

"Now, close your eyes girl... and don't you dare as such, make a sound". 

His breath warm against her skin, his raspy voice and rich accent swirled around his words, she did just as he commanded. She was excited inside, arousing curiosity of what he possibly had planned for her. His warm blooded strong hands slid underneath her blouse, his fingers pulled on the lace trim of her bra down under her mounds, her thick and erect nipples exposed against the satin touch of her blouse. She was moistening her panties by the second, ready and yearning for him, taking steady breaths to not release a sound. He finished unzipping the skirt and let it fall to the floor. 

"Step out of your skirt and kick it aside girl". 

Again, she did as he commanded. 

"Mmmm" he hummed in her ear to the view of her body. 

He took a step back to get a view of her bottom, running his hands and palms over her soft and supple back cheeks. He snapped the band of her g-string, daring her to hitch and squeal. He wrapped his hands around her hips, pulling her back against him, his cock laid in the crack of her ass, tempting her. He proceeded to move one of his hands over her belly, his fingers finding the curve between her legs. She inhaled, her chest rising as he pushed the satin of her panty into her moistened dip, strumming just one finger over her sensitive pearl through the satin. 

Sweat beads started forming over her top lip, she bit down on her bottom, clamping her eye lids tighter, holding in cries with all her might. He was still watching her through the mirror, waiting for her to give in, exactly what he wanted. He knew it would take just a little something more to do her in. He put his other hand over her left satin covered breast, giving it a good squeeze before he used yet again, just one finger and strummed over her tightened nipple, simultaneously with the other. 

Her hands still together and behind her back, stuck between their pressed bodies, loosened and took in a handful of the gentleman's trousers. It was too much, she gasped and cried out. Her body quivering to the streak of lightening that just shot through her. He slowed, soothing her as her orgasm flowed to it's end. Still catching her breath, she opened her eyes to catch his facetious grin through the mirror, eyes narrowed. This man was brilliant, she thought. Normally, she wasn't too easy to crack but this man worked magic. She also knew that this was his intent, to prove that he too was a professional. She wanted more, she wanted to taste his lips, his tongue, feel him inside her. But the professional she was, she knew she would have it, and all of it, as he hadn't yet to be satisfied. 

Just then, he pull her blouse up, forcing her arms up to rid of it. Her bra still tucked under and around her breast. He rubbed his hands over her now bare breast, giving her nipples a pinch for good measure. He grabbed her arm and spun her to face him, clashing his lips to hers, kissing her immensely. It was a domineering competition of tug of war with their tongues. He walked her backward to the side mirrored wall, her thigh highs slowly falling down to her ankles, heels still intact. She in turn, pushed his suit jacket off over his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt, running her red painted finger tips over his defined chest and torso, scanning the black ink he was covered in, finally unbuckling his belt and undoing the one button holding everything together, exposing him fully. He plunges to her neck, leaving wet pink mouth marks from his suction, then swallowing each of her full breast into his mouth, tongue slithering over her plum colored nipples. His body sliding down hers, kissing over her navel, then he puts both arms through between her legs, hands and forearms around the inside of her thighs and with his strength, picks her up resting her against the cold mirror, and on the not-so-comfortable rail. She holds on to him with one arm around his shoulders and the other onto the rail. He buries his face into her neck, head against the mirror, curving his index finger around her g-string pulling it to the side and without much effort, his cock found her hot wet pool and dove in with speed and precision. Her tight walls stretching open to accommodate his thick full cock, pushing as deep as he could go. He shoved and grinded into her, over and over, pausing on each thrust until her tight, shallow pussy was used to the fill of him. Her mouth open, eyes shut, gasping and moaning to each thrust he made. One of her heels finally falling to the marble.

Heart pounding, nearing his own thunder, the elevator jolts once again, lights flicker and come to full blinding brightness, then begins to move. The gentleman seeks the control panel just to the side of them and switches the red stop button off. Before he could lose momentum, he resumes by thrusting hard and quick, keeping his fever and now, building it even more so. Their bodies, hot and sticky, his button down shirt clinging to his back from the sweat. The idea of knowing everything was back to normal operation and Evan waiting on them, excited him. Making the draw of his orgasm more intense. The clever woman clinches her muscles tight around him, pulling the orgasm from him as she knew he was close. He slams into her, one, two, three more times and groans with his exhaling breath, alleviating all build-up, all spasms and emptying all his warm salty cream inside of her. He held still, resting for a moment.

"That is a sweet purr you have, kitten" his voice melting into her ear. 

He looked to her and she smiled, both now pleased, he pulled out of her and let her down. They had spoke with their minds, challenging one another, never uttering a word.

They gathered themselves together, stealing glances but still never speaking a word, and just before the gentleman flipped the switch back to on, he leaned in and gave the woman a kiss on the cheek. 

When the elevator reached the top floor, Evan stood on the other side of the doors as they opened. Tall and dark and in an expensive navy suit himself. Evan was no fool, everything was evident and obvious of the activity that had just took place. Steam and smirred body prints left of the mirrors, and a tinge of a musky stench, hot wet sex. Not to mention the woman's hair not as tidy as usual, in fact, quite messy, a quick job done with her comb. She was thankful for lip-stain lipstick.

"Well... Glad to see you were 'properly' taken care of for this unfortunate inconvenience, Mr. Eames." Evan said with a bit of sarcasm. 

"It wasn't so unfortunate, now was it Evan?" Mr. Eames retorted with a condescending smile, not showing the least bit of care of what Evan might of thought about the episode. 

"Annabell, you're excused. I'm sure the ladies are concerned and need tending". 

"Yes Evan" she answered, her eyes casting downward, arms crossed in front, she exited the elevator. 

"Right this way, Mr. Eames".

The gentlemen went one way and Annabell went the other. The first either of them had heard their names, there was no formal introduction, no grace nor glory, just blatant lust. 

Annabell needed the restroom in the worst way, she was sure Mr. Eames did too. 

"Hmmm, Mr. Eames" she said thinking aloud, viewing and fixing herself through the restroom mirror, replaying back the event in her mind, which had taken all together an hour or so, time well and worth spent.

What a slick, daunting, yet charming vagrant Mr. Eames was, she thought to herself, and secretly hoping they would once again, cross paths. She smiled through the mirror once more and exited the restroom.

The End


End file.
